Chapter 9

Next morning, we were both awake early and I was resting my head on Randalls’ shoulder. It was quiet in the hotel, just the sound of the air movement from the conditioning. He squeezed me.

“I guess that we should remember these moments before the storm. You realise that today is the first day of the rest of your life. Up until now, you’ve been a good presenter and reporter, with some stand-out stories. Today, you’re a multiple Walkley winner, with one of them a gold. That’s something that others have taken decades to earn.”

“It will make some things awkward, love, but it doesn’t change who I am. Or who we are. If I’m any fortune teller, there’ll be a flurry of activity and then we can go back to normal business.”

“I expect that the ABC will want you in the studio to record an interview with the host of Seven-Thirty. That may take quite a while.”

“I’ll call Rex and see if we can turn our return tickets into open ended. What about your job?”

“I’ll call the boss when he gets in and ask for a couple of extra days. If I can’t get it, I’ll go home with Pauline. She shouldn’t miss too much school, seeing that it’s the end of her first year.”

We roused ourselves and took showers. We had brought casual clothes for the trip home, but could wear what we had arrived with, in a pinch. When I knocked on Paulines’ door, she was dressed and ready for breakfast. I took a close look at her.

“For a girl who was out like a light, you look like you didn’t get much sleep, sweetheart.”

“I woke up in the early hours, Mummy. I did what I needed to do but couldn’t get back to sleep. I kept wondering what changes will be happening from today, now that you’re famous.”

“That’s what we were talking about as well. We may not be going home as usual today but will try to leave tomorrow. I’m sure that the ABC has some plans after last night.”

We were sitting with our second cups of tea, after a good breakfast, when Emily came in and sat on the spare chair. The waiter was beside her in a flash and she asked for a black coffee. Then she turned her attention to us.

“Sorry to mess with your plans, folks. Carol, you have an interview to pre-record for Seven-Thirty. Then there are a lot of people in Ultimo who want to meet our Gold Walkley winner, so we’ve organised a lunch where you can do a Q&A. This evening, you all have dinner at Government House, with the Governor, the State Premier and some of the State Cabinet. His wife is a fan of Paulines’ so it should be an interesting evening. We can let you go home tomorrow. You’ve finished the ADF and series two of ‘Cruising’, so the boss doesn’t want to see you until after your trip with the Minister. If you can think up some other stories to pursue in that time, you have next year to research them. That is all dependent on another natural disaster, when you’ll get minimal notice to go anywhere.”

“Thanks, Emily, I think. I’ll move our return tickets to tomorrow. Pauline will have less than a week to catch up with. That was a surprise, last night.”

“It was a surprise for us as well. We knew that we had the one nomination, but the other three awards must have been decided by the judges. We had put forward a few names, as did all the other stations and print media. It’s just been wishful thinking in the past, as the winner usually comes from commercial stations with more money to spend on promotion.”

After we had freshened up, she led us out to the car and driver and we were taken to Ultimo, where I was redressed in a skirt suit, made up, and sat with the presenter of Seven-Thirty, talking about my life and my work. Back in my own clothes, the lunch was a full room of ABC staffers who wanted to hug and kiss, with Pauline getting a lot of attention as well.

We were then taken into the city, where Randall was outfitted with a hired set of tails, and Pauline and I had very expensive dresses with enormous skirts. Randall went back to the hotel while my daughter and I were in a salon for the second time in two days. In the afternoon, I rang Rex and postponed our return tickets for a day. Randall had rung his boss and had been told that he was officially on duty, as the bodyguard of a Nowra celebrity.

At six-thirty, we were picked up by a uniformed driver in a vintage Rolls-Royce and taken to Government house, where flunkeys opened the car doors and helped us out. Pauline and I felt as if we were characters in a period show, dressed as we were in the elegant surrounds of the old building. The dinner was silver service and vintage wines, with everyone dressed like us. The talk was interesting, with us being included, but with many of the subjects at a level that we had never encountered in our lives.

There were official photographers, and we were featured in many, standing with bastions of society and politics. I gave one assistant our home address and was promised a set of prints. It was all very genteel and elegant, and Pauline was ladylike enough to save her snort for when we were back in the hotel. Randall looked at me and we couldn’t help but laugh at the pomposity of it all.

When we arrived back in Nowra, there were local reporters and photographers at the terminal to greet us. The Mayoress welcomed us home and advised us of a dinner in the Town Hall dining room on Saturday evening, but to be just ‘casual elegant’. We would get picked up from home. The local member, who I had spoken to all those months previously, would be there as well.

We drove home in wonder. Just forty-eight hours ago I had been just an ABC reporter, well respected and popular in the local area, and now I was being wined and dined by the upper strata of society. There had to be a catch, which I learned about on that Saturday evening.

The local member would not be contesting the next election and wanted me to consider putting my hat into that particular ring. He told me that my public profile and my friendship with the PM and other Cabinet Members were strong reasons for me to leave the ABC and enter politics. I had plenty of time to think about it, as the next federal election was two and a half years away, but he would like my answer in six months, so that I could be added to promotions leading up to the poll. Before he turned away to talk to others, he smiled.

“There’s another reason that you would make a good politician, Carol. I was watching you when the Minister of Defense was here to make that announcement. I remember you talking to me in a polite, yet insightful way. I could see through the Ministers announcement as spin to paper over a decision they shouldn’t have made. As I watched you, I could see that you didn’t believe a word of it, and that one question of yours rattled him. I have seen BS many times, and that answer was totally made up. Yet, by the way you were dressed in that interview, I saw that you must have recorded it that later that day. You could have skewered him but didn’t. I wondered why, until I started watching that ADF series. He knew that you knew that he had been caught out, and you used it to get his assistance with recording that show.”

“Actually, sir. My silence on that particular matter wasn’t needed after his announcement. We had a frank discussion about the BS after that interview. The ADF shows were his idea, authorised by the PM, and designed to increase recruitment into the future. I allowed myself to be used to get a damn good series out of it, along with getting the gratitude of a wide range of influential people in the government and the military. It’s not my way to knowingly scheme. I would rather take things as they come. Doing that series got me the contacts to give the reports that got us the Walkley. Getting the Walkley has led to you asking me to consider politics. If you think that I was planning tonight when we stood on that tarmac, then you have a wonderful imagination. You should be writing books.”

He laughed.

“That’s exactly what I plan to do in the future. There’s one in my head about my life and my political career. See, even in jest, you’re psychic.”

We settled back into normal life. We had BBQ parties where our guests wanted pictures with me, and the four awards lined up on the sideboard. I had pulled my vase out of the box and dusted it off, so it sat in the middle of the group. Many read the list of groups and squadrons on the back and there was often comments on the 617 Squadron, who everyone knew as the ‘Dambusters’. I never showed my flight jacket with all the patches, now complete with the extra army and navy ones, as well mementos from Timor; a Fifth Aviation Regiment patch that operated the Blackhawks and a Navy Fleet Air Arm 808 Squadron that had flown us back to Darwin. I sometimes put on the one that I had bought for Mum as a laugh.

Pauline got through her exams and the first half of the ADF series finished. We had a quiet Christmas dinner at home, giving each other gifts. Then, we had been invited as guests of honour to the city New Year Eve party. After that, we were packing for our overseas trip. Bernie and his wife were joining us to film everything, and I had been supplied with a camera and recording harness, in case I was taken up in a plane.

The five of us went to Canberra, where we met the official party. The Minister had two Navy Captains, two Air Force Group Captains and an Army Colonel. We were in the first class of a regular commercial flight, which went to Europe via Africa to avoid the Middle East and Russia. In Paris, we were housed in the Australian Embassy and driven to various meetings by coach, with escorts. There wasn’t a lot to film, but a lot to make notes about. Randall and Pauline, with Bernies’ wife, were given tours of the city sights while I was otherwise engaged. That changed when we went to visit the various factories. One was building cheap, but very nasty, suicide drones. Another was building drones that had stand-off and return home capabilities and carried up to four missiles.

Bernie was allowed to film the official party and overviews inside the factories. I was able to talk to the military types about the advantages of these weapons. We were supplied with factory film of testing, which showed the damage the drones could do in slow motion.

Then we went to a few factories building the major components of the Eurofighter, mainly big factory floors with lines of computerised cutting machines and 3-D printers. Lastly, we went to the Evreux-Fauville French air base, where they had four of the new fighter prototypes. One was the fighter/bomber version and two were straight fighters. The last was set up for demonstration and the Minister, the two Group Captains, and I, were taken up in it. As qualified pilots, the other three were allowed to fly the plane and try the AI assisted fighting capabilities.

I was loaded with my harness over my flight suit when I got in. It wasn’t too different to the F-35 that I’d flown in. As we were sitting on the threshold, the French test pilot spoke good English and asked me if I’d ever been in a fast jet. I told him that I had been through the sound barrier in an F-35 and done some aerobatics with the Minister in an FA-18.

Silly me. He took that as me having more experience than I really had and decided to demonstrate some of the capabilities that he had been told not to with the others on board. We were hardly at rotation when he hit the burners and pulled back the control wheel. We went from horizontal to vertical and shot skywards like a Saturn Five rocket.

It was a good job that my harness was recording everything, as he threw the plane around and I had to shut my eyes and swallow hard to keep my breakfast down. When we came in on the approach, he asked me if I had enjoyed myself. I told him that it had been fun, and he did a bump and circuit, then overflew the air base at close to breaking the sound barrier at less than a hundred feet in the air. If nothing else, I knew that my recording, along with Bernies filming, would make for thrilling TV, if we were allowed to show it.

When I was helped out of the flight suit, everyone gave me a hug. I was sure that I would be sporting bruises where the suit had inflated to stop blood pooling. We recorded the Minister announcing that these aircraft were being considered as Australias’ next front line. Confirmation would come after the PM had reviewed the reports.

When we were back on the coach and away from all the French, Algy came and asked me if I had been filming.

“I had turned everything on. I don’t know if it’s good enough, I had my eyes shut most of the time.”

“When we get into the Embassy, I would like to get our boffins to download a copy of what you recorded. What on earth did you say to that pilot for him to do those tricks?”

“He asked me if I had any fast jet experience, so I told him that I had gone supersonic with your son in the F-35 and had flown with you in that FA-18. That’s when we went vertical and shot into space. What’s the big deal?”

“If you had records of the instruments, it would tell us a lot about the capabilities. What he did to impress you had stuff that we haven’t been told about yet. We will need the ones we get to have those capabilities. If we get that, I can see us buying two squadrons of the fighter, for Williamtown, and two of the fighter/bombers to replace the eighteens at Amberley.”

Back at the Embassy, Bernie and I helped their techs to download the recordings. I had been filming with five cameras, with one on my arm looking at me. The other four were pointing sideways and forward. That evening, we reviewed the five cameras views with the sound. We got given a disc with the view of me and the views outside the plane. The two that had recorded the instruments were kept back. I had watched the one that showed a ‘G’ meter and was gob smacked at the pressures that I had endured. No wonder I had bruises coming up. When I mentioned that, I was sent to the infirmary where they photographed the bruises and put some soothing cream on them.

Bernie got a full copy of his filming, as a lot of it was too far away to be meaningful. What excited the serving officers was the stability of the flypast at such a high speed and low altitude.

We stayed in Europe when Bernie and the official party left, with Bernie taking my harness and all our recordings. We had a return flight from Paris in a week, so we went over to England to say hello to Briony and my brother, and then spent a few days showing Pauline the historic sites in London.

We were back in Nowra in plenty of time for Pauline to spend time with her friends before starting second year. While she was out of the house, Randall and I had some serious discussions about this political business. We left it to one side for the moment.

The ADF series ended in February and the fan mail was interesting reading. There were a lot of men who thought that I was the new Lara Croft and wanted pictures of me looking like a badass. The ABC had sent me several boxes of pictures from the shows, and I was able to cater to their wishes.

In late March, we started filming series three of the ‘Cruising’ shows. This time, we had to go further afield for our interviews, and only got two shows in the can over the Easter break. After that, I was in Canberra with the PM. We had shown the Ministers announcement in the news, back in February, with vision of the plane going vertical and overflying the airfield. The feedback had been very positive.

This was reinforced with a fifteen-minute segment on Seven-Thirty about the French inspection tour, with it disclosed that I had been the passenger in the extreme flying. That had created discussion about getting the planes, and had also added to my own image, making it necessary to employ a secretarial service to deal with my fan mail.

The interview with the PM was to go on air the evening that we had his announcement on the news. After we had finished the recording, he asked me to come to his office for a talk. We were served tea and biscuits, and he opened the conversation.

“Over the last year or so, Carol, you have impressed me and my colleagues with your highly professional shows, as well as your discretion. I want you to know that since those ADF shows, the recruitment numbers have increased. I know that you’ve been approached to stand at the next election, and that your local seat will be vacant. Have you had any thoughts about that.”

“We’ve discussed it, sir. My problem is seeing past the voting day. I wouldn’t want to be another token woman on the benches behind you to make you look inclusive.”

“Just so. Look, I can assure you that there would be a good position for you when we win. With what you’ve done, so far, I can see you as an assistant to Algy, in the defense portfolio, with the job to oversee interservice operations. You would be the go-to person when we have wargames or get called in for disaster relief. At the moment, that side of things is an extra load on him and is usually carried out by his staffers. Staffers, I may add, that have zero experience in the field.”

“That sounds like an interesting job, sir. I’ll take that on board and discuss it with Randall.”

“You do that. Remember, we have just two years to the next election. By then, that girl of yours will be in fourth year and with a career as an entertainer ahead of her, if that was what she wanted. You’ll be a good age to enter politics, have an outstanding body of work behind you and an approval rating that most of us are jealous about.”

“You haven’t seen my fan mail, sir. There are a lot who think that I’m Wonder Woman and have only been working as my alter ego, the ABC reporter. Maybe I should start wearing glasses as a disguise.”

After that conversation, I had more with the people that I respected. Starting with Randall and Pauline, who both told me to go for it if that was to be the job I would be doing. The local member told me that I could trust the PMs word and that I would be fantastic in the role. I was able to talk to Algy, and he told me the same as the PM.

Finally, I had a one-on-one with Sir Edward. He said that he would be sad to lose me as an employee, but that he would support me if I stood, especially if I extended a hand of friendship to whoever would replace me.

I notified the local branch that I would like to add my name to their pre-selection list and carried on with my job. Over the next two years, we did two more ‘Cruising’ series. I, and the crew, reported from two minor war zones and three natural disasters, aided by support from the ADF in place. Pauline won the ‘Emerging Talent’ Logie for the ABC, and ‘Cruising’ took ‘Best Family Entertainment’ at the AACTAs two years in a row.

I was interviewed in the February of election year, having won pre-selection for the seat. That was my last ‘live’ appearance on TV as an ABC employee. After that, I was thrown into pre-election visits, meetings and being interviewed as a candidate. There was a host of celebrities from the ‘Cruising’ show who were happy to promote my cause and stand at the voting sites to hand out ‘How to Vote’ papers.

For me and my family, election night was very wearing. Not only was I a candidate, but I was also coerced to sit on a panel in the ABC studio in Canberra as the votes were being counted. As the votes started to come in, I was on tenterhooks, but as my lead increased, I took my leave from the panel at eight and was taken to the airport where a charter plane was waiting for me. I arrived in Nowra where Randall picked me up and we went to the election night party in the city, in time for me to join in with the celebrations. The TV pundit declared me as the member for Gilmore at around eleven, and it was on for young and old.

Randall took a happy and tired Pauline home and came back for me. I was home at around one, while the party was getting even more boisterous. When someone unfurled a banner, reading ’Lara Croft, MP’, I thought that it was time to leave.

In my early forties, I had started yet another career, as a Federal Member of Parliament with an office and staff in Nowra, and the main office and staff in Canberra. As promised, I was made an assistant to the Minister of Defense, in charge of all interservice activities. I leased a flat in Canberra for when we had long sittings, but mainly travelled up for the day with my Rex loyalty card and government credit card being well used.

We stayed in our home, but the parties changed as Pauline got into her later teens. She had blossomed with age and experience. She still played guitar, but wanted to go to university to study journalism, her close knowledge of where it had taken me as an impetus. She married at twenty-one and gave us our first grandchild at twenty-two, something that Randall and I cherished, as we had never thought that we would have one when we married.

Randall transferred to the Commonwealth Police as my security chief and travelled with me wherever I went. Those places included Far North Queensland for the annual wargames, which included periods on board the Canberra as the lead ship in the naval exercises. Moyra was now a Lieutenant Commander, in charge of a department, and looked after us like royalty. Randall was absorbing all the helicopter travel, the need to be kitted out in appropriate battledress when visiting the troops during live-fire exercises. He now understood, fully, what had given me the resilience to do what I did.

I served for five terms. Four in power as the Assistant to the Minister, and the last in opposition, as the Shadow Minister. During that time, I had been interviewed by Pauline, now doing what I used to do. Five times, those interviews took place among shattered buildings. Twice in a war zone and the others at a natural disaster where the ADF was aiding. It was the war zone coverage that got her a Walkley of her own.

I was in the official party at the commissioning of all five of the new drone carriers. They were given names of the five small towns around Nowra. They were part of my duties, as all the drone pilots had to do their basic and pilot training in the air force, while all the underwater drone drivers were navy. There would be army on board as well, seeing that the ships may be offshore, providing back-up for ground troops. Randall and I did a short voyage on the third one completed as it did sea trials and some live fire exercises on an old destroyer. It was a hell of a way to finally decommission it.

Over the years, there was hardly a country in the world that I didn’t visit as a member of government, as someone who could talk to their military, almost on their level. I was the one sent to talk to the injured when we did have the odd fracas. I stood in for the Minister at many meetings and even had my own speechwriter.

I retired from politics in my mid-sixties, to live next to the Shoalhaven River in our home, now filled with mementos of all my years. We would have the BBQ parties that we had kept up over the years, now with guests that included the movers and shakers of Nowra, as well as our daughter, her husband and our three grandchildren, now mostly with families of their own.

These days, I would wear my special flight jacket for the family, as it was now a token of my life, with all the extra patches that I had been given while in politics. There were a few more trophies on our sideboard. The ones I had won as a journalist, the ones for ‘Cruising’, and the medal I had been given when I received my Order Of Australia. The vase that started it all, from recognition of my work to meeting the love of my life, still sat in pride of place in the centre.

For me, it had been a long road. An interesting and happy life, now entering my old age in a land far from where I was born but one I now called home. From that kid on the Hospital Radio in Colchester, to where I am now, was a leap too strange to contemplate.

As I write these words, I can hear Icehouse singing ‘Great Southern Land’ on the local radio, in a ‘Last Century Nostalgia’ show. It was a song that I had played to the patients in Colchester without fully understanding that the lyrics were Iva Davies reacting to homesickness while on an international tour. It had been thirty years old then.

I now understood his connection to this land, and I can relate to the yearning for this country, thinking back to my own ‘Ghosts of Time’.

Marianne Gregory © 2026